Occupants of psyche

Heart what a poor fellow… Goes towards those people who are always ready to stab it. Declines true affection. Maybe maybe not, I think it’s getting habitual of getting kicked off. 


To my beloved principal…

Remembering the eminence who became glory and grandeur himself to an institution. The leader who became an inspiration to all students, teachers and everyone. There is only admiration and respect for not just your work but for the person you are and should always stay in our memories. To the leader, a great parent and an esteemed principal you will always be. You were unfailingly kind. You realised that a child’s mind is like a shallow brook which ripples and dances over the stony courses of its early education and that only made the early years of my education so beautiful. Alas I just wanted to say that any teacher can take a child to the classroom but not every teacher can make him learn. Rest in peace. Thank u very much. 

Occupants of psyche


If love were a warrior, it would have been the champion of the art of clandestine warfare. It strikes its preys when they are least suspecting, like a cat in a stealthy pursuit, leaving no opportunity for them to escape. It was some time before I realised I too had been claimed by it, the latest among the countless victims of love. The experience following Gitanjali’s candid admission was like that of being caught in a quicksand pit, I could wiggle and squirm all that I wanted, but the rapid sinking was inevitable. The only difference and a significant one was that I was relishing every bit of experience as though drowning myself in this beautiful bond. I love her. Yes of course but every time I see myself with her it feels like I’m pulling her behind from her awaited destiny as though I am in a state no less than that of a warrior in midst of a battle, faced with an powerful adversary. I had the choice of holding my ground back, loose some ground, and wait for the opportunity to strike back. The pragmatic side of me however knew that it was Gitanjali whose sturdy presence had given me the strength to tide over the shower of misfortunes. But as the saying goes ” if wishes were horses, beggars would ride”. I don’t know why there are times when it seemed as if I was walking in a dream and nothing around me was real anymore. But I’ve made mistakes and in the manner in which I had done them were out of ignorance and hatred. Till now I’m not even sure to call it a dream or a nightmare, for the cruel face of life that I had come aware of had left me shattered and trembling from within whenever I recall those past incidents. But am I strong enough to cope with all of that I had lost along the way? This question is still unanswered.

Occupants of psyche 


Man is still wolfish and barbarian at heart, ready to boss over others simply to prove his supremacy. His lust for power is as strong as ever. Driven by an unbriddled ambition, he continues his march towards supremacy unmindful of the havoc he causes in the lives of others. It is not a struggle for survival but to satiate his own whims and fancies. An ambitious person does not feel like trampling the emotions and precious lives of others. Unbridled ambition, that ambition which is not laced with morality spells doom for others. He leaves behind a trail of death and destruction. The seed of ambition, once growing, makes a man blind. This idea thus grows on increasing a man’s ambition. The only thing he wants to do is to amass wealth, get all the comforts of life and whomsover comes in his way is broomed off. This half success makes him to sit on the cloude nine and he sees the world from there as an insignificant speck and thinks that he is free to do anything.This mania takes him nowhere and he meets his blood curdling end.